


Consideration 10

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Series: Consideration, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his guide's latest health  complication, Jim has a little fear response, and Blair has to calm him down.<br/>This story is a sequel to Consideration 9.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consideration 10

## Consideration 10

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimer: Yeah, you guessed it, I borrowed the guys once again. It's getting to be a really nasty habit. 

Warning: Reading the other parts of the series, especially number nine would help understand this story. You need to know that Blair lives with post traumatic seizure syndrome and that he suffered a recent fall down the loft stairs. 

* * *

"Thanks, Simon. I appreciate you coming over. This shouldn't take too long. I just want to be finished before Blair comes home tomorrow and this is the only time I have to do it." 

"Do what?" Captain Banks put his jacket on the hook by the doorway and looked around. In the middle of the living area, Blair's old bed and mattress sat along with a bookcase, a chair, and several boxes. Puzzled, the older man asked, "What's going on? What's up with the bed in the living room?" 

"I needed to get it out of the way so I can move our bed downstairs." 

"Move your bed? Where?" 

"Into Blair's old room." 

Putting his hands on his hips, Simon scanned the hallway and looked up the stairs. "You're joking, right?" 

"Not at all." Heading for the refrigerator, Jim pulled out a beer. "You want one?" 

"No, I don't want one. It's nine in the morning. You shouldn't want one either. Good thing it's a Saturday." A frown of concern passed over the captain's features. He noted the bloodshot eyes shadowed with dark circles and the rough, unshaved cheeks. "Did you sleep at all last night?" 

"I stayed at the hospital and then I called you. I really haven't had time. I'll sleep later once Blair's back." 

"Jim, tell me what's really going on here." 

The detective took a drink and then shook his head. "Nothing. I just thought that it'd be better for now to move the bed downstairs. I don't want Blair having to go up and down while he's recuperating. God, Simon, you should see all those bruises. He doesn't need the extra hassle." 

"Jim, for one thing, you've got a king size bed up there. How's it going to fit in that little space? Hell, you'll hardly be able to scoot around the edges. Besides that, have you talked to Blair about this?" 

Ignoring the question, Jim proceeded to have another swallow. "Look, I know it's going to be a tight fit, but it'll just be until I can find us another place." 

"What? You want to move?" Simon stepped closer as he spoke. 

"I want to find some place safer, some place single level. I haven't had time to look yet, but just as soon as Blair's better, I'll be able to find something. In the meantime, we can tough out a little tight space." 

Simon shook his head as he braced his hand on the beam by the counter. "Jim, you're not thinking very straight here. You didn't answer me before. Have you talked to Blair about any of this? Do you really think he's going to want to move out of here just because he fell down the stairs?" 

"First of all, this isn't the first time he's fallen. He fell a couple of times here and again at the university. Second, Blair's not going to care as long as we're together." 

"I don't know, Jim. This seems like a big decision." 

"It's just a place. It's not a big deal." 

Crossing his arms, Simon took a deep breath before he spoke. "Jim, did I ever tell you about the time when Joan and I were first married when we needed a new car?" 

Confused by the sudden shift of topic, the detective shook his head. "No, I don't think so." 

Leaning back, his voice in story-telling mode, Simon spoke very carefully. "It was right after we found out she was pregnant with Daryl. We were driving this old clunker and so I decided, it was time for a new car, right?" 

"Sounds right." 

"Of course, it does. Who'd have a problem? So, anyway I go out and buy this new Ford wagon, bring it home as a surprise, and go in all excited just as sure as anything that Joan's going to be as happy as I am." 

Jim shifted uneasily. "Where are you going with this, Simon?" 

"Bare with me a minute more, Jim. I'm getting there." 

"By way of the polar ice caps sounds like." 

"Jim..." 

Impatient and tired, Jim's voice sounded defeated. "Okay, okay, so what happened?" 

"We had one of the worst fights of our marriage, and as you well know, that's saying something. Seems she couldn't believe I'd make such a decision like that without talking to her first. I, on the other hand, couldn't believe she'd be upset." 

"So, you had to take the car back, right?" Jim drank some more beer while he tried to be patient. 

"Of course, not. She loved the thing. The car wasn't the issue. The issue was that I didn't talk to her about it first. Do you see where I'm going with this, Jim? I really think you should discuss these changes you're making with Blair first." 

"Don't worry about it, Simon. I know Blair. He's easy about this kind of thing. Staying here's been one of the longest times he's ever stayed anywhere. I'm telling you, it won't be a problem." 

Realizing Jim had completely missed the point, he tilted his head, still worried. His best detective didn't usually act so dense when it came to most situations. Then again, when it came to Blair, Jim didn't always use his best practical thinking skills, but ran more to gut reactions. Sighing in defeat, he asked, "You're sure?" 

"Absolutely. Now, come on. Let's put those muscles to work and get that bed down here." 

Simon watched as Jim finished off the rest of the beer before he headed up to the bedroom. He didn't want to be anywhere nearby when his friend finally got around to sharing his decisions with his life mate. The captain groaned to himself quietly. Jim hadn't learned a thing from being married before, but he was probably about to get a few hard lessons from a very stubborn teacher. Suddenly having a morning beer didn't sound half bad. 

* * *

"Oh, man, it's good to be home." Blair leaned against the outside wall, while Jim inserted the key in the lock. The sling on his right arm held the bruised shoulder a bit more stable, but the ache reached all over his throbbing, miserable body. 

"Almost there, Chief." Pushing open the door, he stood out of the way as his partner slowly walked inside. 

"I just want to go to bed for awhile, Jim. Who knew riding in a truck could wear my ass out like that." 

Dropping the keys on the table, he shut the door and dropped the bag out of the way. "You need to eat something first and take your pills." He placed a gentle hand at the small of Blair's back and guided him easily to the couch. "Here, you sit down while I get some hot tea. I'll fix us some vegetable soup Ms. Aubrey brought by." 

Settling down with an oof, the younger man eased himself carefully back to the supporting armrest. Every tiny adjustment sent new spikes through each injured, tense tissue. "The tea sounds great, man, but forget the soup. I'm not really hungry. The stomach's a little queasy from the antibiotics and muscle relaxants swimming through the old blood stream." 

Putting the kettle on to boil, Jim took down a mug and some bowls. "You've got to eat, Chief. Says so right on the prescription bottle." 

His voice tight, but working on patience, Blair spoke quietly. "I know what it says, Jim. I can still read, okay? I'm just not hungry." 

Stopping his busy movements, Jim turned at the tone. "I didn't mean it like that, Blair. I know you can read." 

"Then stop acting like I'm some kind of brain-damaged guy who can't take care of himself, man." Pausing to control his tongue, he grimaced as he shifted to be more comfortable before continuing his thought. "Look, I know you're trying, but you've been a little too much the last few days, Jim. Granted, I'm moving at about quarter speed, but the brain's up and running. I can decide for myself." 

The older man returned to fixing lunch. "What's to decide? You eat, take your pills, and then go to sleep." He poured the homemade soup out of the jar and stirred it into a pan. 

"You're not listening, Jim." 

"Sure I am. I just don't like what I'm hearing. It's just a little soup. Try it." 

"I don't want any damn soup, man. Shit." He grabbed his side and let out a slow breath. His chest muscles threatened rebellion at one more shout. "Look, I'm going to go the restroom and then upstairs to lie down. Those pills make me too sleepy to think." 

He held up a quick hand as Jim turned to help. "No, it's okay. It's easier if I just do it myself, Jim. Honest." 

Uneasily, his eyes squinted with his own pain, the older man watched Blair lift himself with extra care from the sofa. "Okay. Just don't lock the door in case you have a problem." 

"Jesus, Jim, would you just lighten up? It's just the bathroom for godsakes." 

"You could slip or hit the tub. Don't lock the door." 

Blair shook his head in surrender as he worked his way down the hallway. Before he got to his destination, he stopped short. "Fuck." 

Coming up behind him, Jim asked, "What?" 

"What the hell is this? Why is our bed down here?" Blair stood there, his mouth agape, as he saw the massive bed stuffed into his old living space, the rest of the furnishings gone to make room. 

"I thought it'd be better here while you're healing." 

Barely breathing, Blair leaned against the wall. He just couldn't believe this. He kept telling himself Jim meant well, but he trembled from the heat of his own reactions, his own fears. "But we'll move it back upstairs later, right?" 

"Maybe. It's just better this way." 

Looking at his partner in utter disbelief. "Better for whom? You or me? Jim, look, I know my falling freaked you out a little, but, hey, this is like way too much." 

"What's the big deal, Chief? You're in no shape to go up and down all those stairs so I moved the bed. I thought you'd be pleased." 

"You thought wrong, man. Why didn't you ask me first?" 

"I didn't think I needed to. It's my bed." 

"Fuck you, Jim Ellison." Blair turned, his eyes stinging from the harsh slap of the words as he headed to the bathroom. 

"Chief, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Shit." Jim reached out a hand, but Blair shoved him away, agony firing through his entire right side. 

"Sure you did, Jim. Go away and leave me alone for a minute. I can't deal with you right now." 

"I'm not going anywhere, Blair. We need to talk about this." 

"Now we need to talk? It's a little late if you ask me. Just leave me alone, Jim. Just a minute, please." Gulping for stubborn air, Blair found himself sinking to sit on the narrow toilet. 

"I'm sorry, Chief. I never wanted to upset you. I love you." 

"I know you do, Jim. Maybe that's the problem." 

"What?" 

"You think that by taking over, you're being supportive, but you're not. You're making me feel like I'm less than I used to be." 

Kneeling beside his partner, Jim placed a tentative hand on Blair's thin knee. "How am I doing that by moving the bed, babe? I mean, I'm sorry, I don't understand." His voice shook with the desperate delivery of the words. 

Blair reached out and stroked the square jaw of his lover, cupping his chin as he watched the unsure blue eyes studying him. "I know you don't, Jim." 

"But?" 

"But you've got to try to understand my deal on this, too." 

"Then help me, Chief. I just want to keep you safe. Is that so bad?" Jim rested his face on Blair's thigh as the younger man petted his head. 

"It's not terrible, Jim, but we have to talk about things first like we used to. You're not doing that anymore. Not since the accident." 

A wetness touched his leg and Blair realized that tears seeped through the soft fabric of his sweats. His whole chest swelled with witness to silent grief. "Oh, Jim. I am so sorry, man." 

Ever more gently, he rubbed his fingers through the short hair, some of the tuffs sticking straight up. "I'd kiss you, babe, but I'm a little too sore to bend down right now. Come on. It's going to be okay. Get up and go fix me that soup. I'll be out in a minute and we'll get this sorted out, okay?" 

"I thought you weren't hungry?" The muffled words vibrated thick against his leg. 

"I changed my mind. Now, go finish making my lunch and we'll talk." Blair handed Jim some tissue to blow his nose. "You must be really tired of all this shit, huh?" 

Still kneeling, but sitting back, Jim tossed the used tissue and shook his head. "I'm such a smuck. I can't believe I just did that. Guess I've lost the tough guy image award this year." 

"Stop that shit. You're as tough as they come, Jim. I mean, this whole thing would be rough on anybody, man. You've got to be tired. I know how you are. You probably haven't slept since I fell on Wednesday." 

"That's no excuse. I'm tired, sure, but you're the one who's hurt, not me. I'm just fucking this whole thing up." 

"Jim, listen to me, you're tired. Go fix lunch and then we'll both take a nap." 

The older man looked up, smiling at the wording. "You're in no shape for a 'real nap', babe." 

"I know. No fooling around, but we could still cuddle as long as you don't do that mighty man grip thing you sometimes do. Then I'd have to smack you." 

"Promise?" Jim reached up and traced a finger along Blair's jaw. 

"You bet, but later." Shifting uncomfortably, Blair grimaced. "Much later, I'm afraid." 

Standing up, Jim started for the door before he turned and added. "I'll be right outside if you need me." 

"I'll always need you, Jim. Don't ever doubt that." 

Grinning, Jim flipped on the light. "I never did, Chief." 

As soon as his lover left, Blair struggled to his feet. One handed, he lifted the lid and pulled down his sweats to use the bathroom, thanking God for elastic waistbands. When he went to wash his hands, he noticed his good razor missing. Frowning, he looked up in the cabinet and found a brand new electric shaver. "Damn it, Jim. What the hell am I going to do with you, man?" 

From the other room he heard, "What's wrong, Chief?" 

"Nothing, man. I'll be there in a minute." Closing the cabinet, he walked back to the kitchen table and sat down, determined to try and be patient. He didn't want to fight. He really didn't. 

"So, Jim, man, what's up with the electric razor?" 

Sheepishly, the larger man looked away as soon as he put the bowls on the table and sat down. "I guess, I should've asked about that first, too, right?" 

"Yeah, now you're catching on. So what were you thinking this time, that I'd have a seizure and cut my own throat? Did you get rid of all the knives in the place, too? Why not replace all the dishes with plastic? I mean, you never know when I might break a glass or plate and cut my own wrist, right?" 

"I'm sorry, Blair. I wasn't thinking too clearly, I guess" 

Hearing the sad tone in his lover's voice, Blair shook his head. "No, I shouldn't have said all that. I know how hard this is for you, man. You're the kind of person that has to do something. You're the protector. It's just that there are some things you can't protect me from. Besides, I hate electric shavers. They don't even faze this hairy face of mine." 

Locking eyes with the man he loved so dearly, Jim whispered, "It's a great face, Chief." 

"Thanks, man. Yours is pretty cool, too." His smile faded as he turned serious. "The thing is, Jim, all this over reaction is normal. You got scared. So, did I, but we can't give into that. I just want things as normal as they can be." 

Jim reached over and touched the top of Blair's hand. "Me, too, Chief. I guess I did over react just a little." 

"Just a little?" 

"Okay, Chief. A lot. Satisfied?" 

"For now. So, who'd you get to help move the bed? Simon?" 

"Yeah. He told me to talk to you first, but I didn't listen." 

"Imagine that." Blair teased while he brought Jim's hand to his lips, kissing the palm while he nipped the index finger playfully. 

Blair watched as his partner floated on the river of sensation, his guides's nimble tongue driving him crazy. "Like that?" 

"God, yes." Jim's voice drifted, soft and husky as his head fell back with eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

"Man, you are like so easy sometimes." He licked his tongue across the inside of his wrist and saw Jim's whole body twitch. He whispered, "Jim, use your other hand, man. Touch yourself for me. Do it right now." His breathing thick and ragged, Jim followed the command, his eyes still closed. Blair studied the tense lines across the tired features and then proceeded to suckle each finger, slicking it and nibbling, bringing each one in and out slowly. Every time he moved his mouth, Jim shuddered. "Stroke yourself, Jim. Match my rhythm. Come on, lover. God, you taste so good." 

He rubbed his bearded cheek against hypersensitive skin, licked it, and then blew lightly on the same open hand. "It's been so long, hasn't it, baby. You need this. Do it for me." 

Another tongue flick on the thumb brought a moan and near whimper as Jim pumped himself, balanced precariously on the edge of the chair. "God, Jim, keep doing that. I love to hear you, man." His lover's hand fisted faster and faster, while his breathing grew more throaty and deep. Lips and teeth teamed up and assaulted the sentinel palm one more time and then branched out to each and every finger again. Suddenly, Jim arched with a grunt, his back bowed and curved up, his whole body gripped and paralyzed before it shuddered. The strong musky scent increased his own arousal as he watched Jim Ellison fall back hard against the chair, his face a strange mask of painful rapture, a grimace of ecstasy complete. 

Still holding his lover's hand, Blair smiled at the surge of power, the love that overwhelmed him knowing he could do this with a simple touch. After a few moments, Jim opened his eyes, his pupils still dark from delight. "God, you're a great guide. 

Laughing out loud, Blair kissed the palm one more time before he let it go. "You liked that?" 

"You bet. That's what I call a first class hand job." 

"Just wait until I can use both hands." 

Jim rolled his head back again, his mouth open while he panted. "You're going to kill me." 

"Nope, just make you putty in my hands." 

"Oh, yeah, no doubt about that." Sitting back up, Jim looked down and frowned. "Well, guess I'd better clean this up." 

"You do that and I'm going to go lie down for awhile." His grin gone, his voice lower, Blair focused on his partner. "Jim, we'll talk about all this over reaction stuff later, okay?" 

"Okay. Just know, I didn't do anything to hurt you on purpose, Chief." 

"I know. We'll work all this out, but right now, I'm crashing." 

"Need any help?" 

"Jimm....?" Blair shook his head in frustration before he saw the grin on his friend's face. "You're such a dick sometimes." But he said the words lightly. 

Breathing a little harder from the increased pain, he spoke quietly. "Man, every muscle feels sore." 

"Not every muscle, Chief." Jim reached over and tenderly stroked the front of Blair's sweats, the cock half-erect under the cloth. 

"Oh, yeah, man, every muscle." He groaned and caught the larger hand. 

Surprised, Jim pulled back. "Sorry. I never even thought about it." 

"It's all the muscles around it, Jim. Just give it some time. Believe me, I'm as anxious as you are for things to work like they used to." 

"I'll bet." 

Blair stood slowly and headed for his old room. He laughed quietly, but not so low that sentinel ears couldn't catch it. "What?" 

"I was just thinking how glad I was that I didn't have to climb those stairs. And I swear to god, if you say I told you so, that hand job will be a distant memory before you get another." 

"God, you're tough, Chief." 

"Got to be tough for the tough guy. Now, clean yourself up and come sleep with me awhile. I've missed you." 

"Your wish, babe." 

Affection washed a warm comfort across his heart as his lover quickly cleaned away any evidence of their earlier pleasure. He turned away and carefully settled himself on the bed jammed up against his old wall. Brief memories of earlier long nights, separate and alone, invaded like snapshots through his thoughts. Brief glimpses of heartache--Maya's rejection, Jim's women, his own attempts at sexual distractions. All of them weighed heavy as he tried to find a less ache-filled position. 

He struggled not to complain as Jim finally settled beside him, but failed. "Sorry, Chief. Maybe I should sleep on the couch." 

He grabbed his lover's hand, bringing it to rest under the folds of the sling he still wore. "Don't even think about it. We sleep together, now and for always. I love you, Jim." 

Very gently, Jim eased himself up and leaned over to brush back Blair's dark, fluffy curls. Kissing the forehead, he whispered. "I love you, too, Chief." 

With grace and precision, he spooned himself next to his guide's side and lay there awhile before speaking quietly. "I promise to try to do better about this fear response thing, babe. I know you don't want me taking over and making decisions by myself. I just don't know what gets into my head sometimes." 

"Love, man. You just want to protect me, just like I want more than life to protect you. The thing is that you just forget to mention it." 

"Yeah, well, I guess this probably wouldn't be the time to bring up the idea of finding a different place to live then?" 

"Oh, man. You're impossible." 

"I was just asking." 

"Well, don't. We're not moving. I love this place. It's our first place together, Jim. Our home." 

Nuzzling into the heat of his lover's body, Blair whispered, "Later, if we find something we both like, then we'll talk about it." 

"Okay." Cradling Blair tenderly, careful of all the bruises, Jim kissed his guide's cheek. "Sleep, babe. I'm glad you're home." 

"Me, too, love." 

Blair snuggled closer, his breathing slowing down as his mind wandered over to the world of the jungle, a place where he ran free without any painful limits. All around him the world transformed into a steamy green heat, the intense sun-rich light warming his balanced and controlled body. Clarity flashed and he knew exactly what to do. Booted and dressed in soft leather, he raced beside the sleek panther, the animal spirit leading him to the temple. Ancient stones created a stairway to a platform surrounded by a monument to the Great Eye and knowledge. Standing there staring upward, Blair trembled at the power in his own limbs. Desire guided him as he took the first step upward to join his sentinel. Jim, dressed as the tribal watchman, waited for him, his arms outstretched and strong, love and passion the language of their eternal connection. The song of approval roared beside him as he walked, unfaltering to the very top to join his fate, Jim Ellison, his everlasting and quintessential companion. 

The End 


End file.
